Saturday, 7 February 2015

It is cold out and it is snowing. Our winter has returned after what must
have been the warmest January on record.

Tess has declared an indoor day. By that she means it is too miserable to go
out and she wants to sit and watch television all day which is fine by me. She
works hard and needs the rest. Besides, going out would entail her dragging me
through the malls and Walmart and it is embarrassing being out in public being
pulled along by the ring in your nose.

Tess has said she wants spaghetti for dinner tonight which means I am
cooking. I don't mind. I make the absolute best spaghetti sauce and we haven't
had it for a while. My mouth is watering already.

I checked and made sure the old folks had something for dinner so I won't
worry about them. Mom said to me "Stop worrying. I am a good cook." I told her
yes she was but she hadn't done if for two years. It made her laugh. She knows
that is true.

Valentines Day in the city is off. I had forgotten that that was the weekend
of the B.C. Winter Games and every room in the city is booked. So much for that!
We will wait and go south to Kamloops when the weather is a little better.

At some point today I will need to shovel and snow blow the driveway and I
have to run to the market for a couple of things but other than that it is an
indoor day for me also although if I muster the energy I may walk about the
block for a bit.

I will lounge on the Chesterfield, read, dink on the computer, and listen to
the MP3 player while Tess watches bad Filipino dramas.

Earlier I wrote that Tess has declared an indoor day and that was fine with
me. It just got off to a late start. I went to market and got what I needed for
tonight's meal while Tess prepared a 5 Star brunch. When that mess was cleaned
up I went out and took the snow blower to the driveway, called each of my
daughters and spoke with them, and then Tess and I watched a two hour Filipino
news special about the slaughter of 42 policemen by Islamic militants in
Mindanao. The Islamic apologist in chief in the US Whitehouse started drawing
down US anti-terrorism troops in the Philippines in July. The Filipinos are in
this on their own now.

The news over, Tess has switched to a quiet soothing music show. We are
drinking an extremely delightful hot instant honey, ginger drink. Made in China
by Prince of Peace beverage company. Five stars. They get my vote.

I eat food and drink beverages I would have turned by nose up in years past.
Tess has trained me and it has opened my world. We North Americans are far too
chauvinistic. There is a huge world out there filled with wonderful cultures,
tantalizing food, wonderful beverages, delightful customs.

I will go you one further by stating I think our culture is decaying,
crumbling, destroying itself and there is little good left in it.

In any event. I am going to read for a bit then watch a video on Youtube
before the Internet speed dies this evening.

This
is a test. For the next sixty (or
thirty) seconds,
this station will conduct a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is only
a test.

If you are old enough to remember
that then you are likely older than dirt.

In any event, I would like to run
a little quiz here and ask you to take part.

It is not as easy to do here as I
would want and I have to ask you all to play by the honor system and not look
ahead too far.

I am going to give a series of
hints one after another. I would like you to give your answer in the reply
section with the hint number you are replying to. For example, if you think you
know the answer after the firt hint then give the number 1 and your answer. If
after the third hint then give your answer and the number 3,
etc.

WHO AM
I

I was the most well known person
in colonial America.

I was close friends with Ben
Franklin.

I made 13 ocean crossings between
the Colonies and England.

It is said that 80% of Colonial
America heard me speak.

I regularly spoke to crowds of
30,000 and more.

It can be argued that I had more
influence on Colonoal America than anyone else.

Most people recognize the name C.S. Lewis if only as the author of The
Chronicles of Narnia. A few more may be familiar with another of his classics,
Mere Christianity. Lewis, of course, was a towering intellect and wrote far more
than those works but the Chronicles and Mere Christianity are what he is most
remembered for.

I usually read Mere Christianity at least once every two years and sometimes
more than that. It never grows old for me. Each reading is as fresh for me as
the first. Occasionally I run across some fool who claims that Lewis'
arguments in Mere Christianity fell flat for them. At that point I ask them
which specific argument they found wanting and how they answer what Lewis
posited. I never get a response.

I don't care what someone believes. I don't care if they are swayed by his
writings or not. I do care when someone claims his argument's are weak and than
offer no alternative. I suspect those people have never really read they
book.

Lewis, who was a professor at Oxford and then later at Cambridge is himself
now the subject of innumerable University level courses. It can be argued that
Lewis had as much affect on the 20th century as Whitfield did on the 18th.

Paul McCusker has written a delightful book on how Mere Christianity came
about that is in parts a shortened biography of C. S. Lewis, partly an account
on how the book came to be written, and partly an account of WWII Britain. It is
in each of its parts brilliant.

This is the anniversary of Tess' father's death and today is the day her
family will have a Filipino styl prayer/open house service.

Tess spoke to one of her sisters last night and said she would send 5,000
pesos toward the cost today. I was the designated sender so this morning, while
out with Scott for a coffee, I ran into Western Union to send the money. It was
the middle of the night in the Philippines but I sent a text to her sister with
the required Western Union information.

While serving up dinner for the old folks I had left my cell phone in my coat
pocket and finally heard the Viber service ringing. I ran for the phone ...
Tess' sister had been frantically calling ... about six times.

She couldn't get the money because her name had been spelled wrong on the
Western Union ticket.

OMG. TESS IS GOING TO KILL ME.

I flew back down the hill to town making Western Union just before it closed.
Then getting there I had forgotten my wallet and they needed my ID to make the
change.

OMG. TESS IS GOING TO KILL ME.

I was finally able to give them my DL number and expiry date from memory but
now the computer wouldn't take it.

OMG. TESS IS GOING TO KILL ME.

Finally the agent got Western Union on the phone and got the change made.

PHEW. MY ASS IS COVERED.

I went home and then called Tess' sister to tell her I was sorry. I know her
name. I don't know how that happened but that it was fixed now. She could get
the money.

Then I went looking for my wallet and pulled out the piece of paper that Tess
had written her sister's name on so "you won't make a mistake."

I just about fell apart laughing. I had just handed the paper to the Western
Union agent. She copied it from the paper.

Last night was my second night into a surprisingly good book I purchased
cheap, cheap from Amazon. I am seldom awake past 10:30 or 11:00 any more but
last night I could not put the book down and was trying to finish it. By 1:30 I
was still only three quarters of the way through it and had to get some sleep. I
reluctantly gave up for the night.

As much as I am enjoying this book and even as cheaply as it was priced I
still should not have bought it given the large number of unread books I
have bought and then never gotten around to reading. I realized now that can be
blamed on my needing new glasses and not on any lessening interest in the
printed word but none the less I should be focusing on clearing that backlog
which would probably take a couple of years of serious get-to-it-ive-ness.

But, I did buy it, I am thoroughly enjoying it, and I am going to try not to
guilt myself too much.

None of this is news of any sort. This is.

Two Christmases ago my oldest daughter got me a Kindle ebook reader. I loved
the idea in theory: cheap books, free books, and instant delivery. In practice
it worked out differently. It didn't feel right. It didn't look right. It didn't
smell like a book. The constant tapping to turn pages was a pain in the ass. Hi
lighting a passage was cumbersome. The lack of page numbers frustrating.

Still, I muddled on. I kept trying it.

Last night about midnight as I was reading along I suddenly realized that I
was reading without awareness that I was reading from a Kindle. I usually read
in bed and accordingly lie on my side towards the lamp on the nightstand. The
Kindle is back lit and you do not need a light to read. I found that I had
turned over to my other side and was still reading.

A Kindle can solve a lot of problems. Books are a lot cheaper. Kindle books
take up no space and that is an issue as I am running out of room. Kindles are
light weight and can be taken anywhere.

This may have become an answer to a problem. I can read fiction and light
reading on the Kindle and for reading where I need to hi light and write notes I
will get a book.

It took over a year of petting and foreplay but I finally lost my ebook
virginity last night. It is me and my Kindle for now on.

On four occasions I have walked the 780 kilometres of The Camino de Santiago
in Spain. Once I walked the length of Japan from the southern tip of Kyushu in
the south to the northern tip of Hokkaido in the north. This evening I completed
the 1100 kilometre Shikoku Buddhist Pilgrimage Trail for the second time. I have
done these walks with several well known writers: Jane Christmas, Will Ferguson,
Paul Barach, Hape Kerkeling, and Conrad Rudolf among others. I have done this
all without breaking a sweat or leaving my home.

Usually when I see a book on Amazon listed for $2.73 I pass on by as quickly
as possible. Experience has shown that books at this price are usually as
appealing as a supermarket selection of fish that are a week past their best by
date.

Of course, occasionally I am fooled and get a good book and, this week, a
great one.

"A 750-mile pilgrimage, an unprepared office worker, and everything that
went wrong along the way.

Age twenty-eight and fed up with the office job he settled for, Paul
Barach decided to travel to Japan to follow a vision he had in college: to walk
the ancient 750-mile Shikoku pilgrimage trail. Here are some things he did not decide to do: learn Japanese, do any
research, road test his hiking shoes, or check if it’s the hottest summer in
history.

And he went anyway, hoping to change his life.

Fighting Monks and Burning Mountains is the absurd and
dramatic journey of one impulsive American’s search for answers on a holy path
in an exotic land. Along the pathway connecting 88 Buddhist temples, he’ll face
arduous mountain climbs, hide from guards in a toilet stall, challenge a priest
to a mountaintop karate battle, and other misadventures. He’ll also delve into
the fascinating legends of this ancient land, including a dragon-fighting holy
man, a berserker warrior-priest, haunted temples, all manner of gods and
monsters, and a vendetta-driven ghost that overthrew a dynasty.Told with humor and humility, Fighting Monks and Burning Mountains is a
funny, engaging memoir about the consequences of impulsive decisions, and the
things you can discover while you’re looking for something else.

Also that boars are terrifying in person."

Reaching the end of this book left me terribly saddened. I will miss Paul
Barach and I will miss Japan and I will especially miss the people and places
along the Shikoku Buddhist Pilgrimage.

Independent bookstores have faced tough times for quite a while. In San
Francisco, neighborhood businesses have been passionately protected, so it’s
hard to believe that an initiative passed by voters to raise the minimum wage is
driving a Mission District bookstore out of business.

San Francisco’s minimum wage is currently $11.05 an hour. By July of 2018,
the minimum wage in San Francisco will be $15 an hour. That increase is forcing
Borderlands Bookstore to write its last chapter now.

[…]Borderlands was turning a small profit, about $3,000 last year. Then
voters approved a hike in the minimum wage, a gradual rise from $10.75 up to $15
an hour.

“And by 2018 we’ll be losing about $25,000 a year,” he said.

It’s an unexpected plot twist for loyal customers.

“You know, I voted for the measure as well, the minimum wage
measure,” customer Edward Vallecillo said. “It’s not something that I thought
would affect certain specific small businesses. I feel sad.”

Though it’s caught a lot of people off guard, one group that wasn’t
completely surprised was the Board of Supervisors. In fact, they say they
debated this very topic before sending the minimum wage to the voters.

“I know that bookstores are in a tough position, and this did come up in the
discussions on minimum wage,” San Francisco supervisor Scott Wiener said.

Wiener knows a lot of merchants will pass the wage increases on to their
customers, but not bookstores.

“I can’t increase the prices of my products because books, unlike many other
things, have a price printed on them,”

Wiener says it’s the will of the voters. Seventy-seven percent of
them voted for this latest wage hike.

Unexpected!

Let’s review the facts on minimum wage, and then I can make fun of one of my
friends in my conclusion.

We estimate the minimum wage’s effects on low-skilled workers’ employment and
income trajectories. Our approach exploits two dimensions of the data we
analyze. First, we compare workers in states that were bound by recent increases
in the federal minimum wage to workers in states that were not. Second, we use
12 months of baseline data to divide low-skilled workers into a “target” group,
whose baseline wage rates were directly affected, and a “within-state control”
group with slightly higher baseline wage rates. Over three subsequent
years, we find that binding minimum wage increases had significant, negative
effects on the employment and income growth of targeted workers. Lost
income reflects contributions from employment declines, increased probabilities
of working without pay (i.e., an “internship” effect), and lost wage growth
associated with reductions in experience accumulation. Methodologically, we show
that our approach identifies targeted workers moreprecisely than the demographic
and industrial proxies used regularly in the literature. Additionally, because
we identify targeted workers on a population-wide basis, our approach is
relatively well suited for extrapolating to estimates of the minimum wage’s
effects on aggregate employment. Over the late 2000s, the average effective
minimum wage rose by 30 percent across the United States. We estimate
that these minimum wage increases reduced the national employment-to-population
ratio by 0.7 percentage point.

Ouch. That is going to cost me. I don't have a long distance plan for phone
calls into the USA and I just spent an hour on the phone talking to a friend. I
may have to beg on a street corner to pay for that one.

Pastor Ken in Pennsylvania is 65 today. I know that because Pastor Ken used
to be Missionary Ken, the director of the Native Bible Institute here. He was
also my very, very close friend for many years. He moved back to the US a long
time ago and we are not as close as we once were. Maintaining long distance
friendships is hard. I do miss him and I miss the time we shared together over
the years and I wish I could see him.

Another friend is having a birthday on next Tuesday. He is my best friend. I
have known him for coming up on 43 years now. We'll celebrate his number 72 by
doing what we always do on Tuesday mornings, going for coffee. I have offered to
buy him breakfast that day too. I mean, after 43 years of friendship buying him
an Egg McMuffin at McDonald's doesn't see too extravagant, does it?

I can't give you him his name. He is an unassuming guy and wouldn't want it
spread around that TUESDAY IS HIS 72ND BIRTHDAY.

I cannot tell you how much my friendship with 65 year old Pastor Ken and with
my 72 year old unnamed friend have enriched my life. I would be so much poorer
without these men in my life. I love them both dearly I and I am unashamed to
admit it.

The only thing I don't understand is how I wound up with friends that
old!

Lewis, an Oxford Don, was one of the last centuries towering intellects and
while he was extraordinarily adept at making himself clear to the ordinary man
some of his writings are directed a little higher and require some time to get
through.

One of the points that Lewis made writing in
that age was that every generation of unbelievers trot out the same objections
to God, Jesus, and the Gospel that the previous generation had trotted out and
present them as new and untried while in fact the objections have been answered
over and over again ad nausea throughout history.
This is even more relevant today when atheist arguments against Christianity
presented by drug store atheists on the Internet are nothing more than a rehash
of every past argument that didn't hold water then and don't now. The atheist
well has been emptied for want of an argument lacking holes.

Even the weak arguments presented by University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill professor Dr. Bart Ehrman are nothing more than the rejected Bauer
hypothesis of the last century dressed up in a cheap suit. This, doubtless, why
Ehrman speaks with forked tongue presenting one thing to scholars and its
opposite in his books for a public audience.

None the less Lewis hits many of these arguments head on and shows their
shallowness once again to another generation. Now, seventy years later,
apologists are repeating the same answers to a new generation running their
tired old flag up the pole again.

While not for everyone and most certainly beyond the ken of the garden
variety atheist writing here, Lewis is still relevant and well worth
reading.

Amazon says:

"C. S. Lewis struck me as the most thoroughly converted man I ever met,"
observes Walter Hooper in this book's preface. "His whole vision of life was
such that the natural and the supernatural seemed inseparably
combined."

God in the Dock contains forty-eight essays and twelve letters written by
Lewis between 1940 and 1963. Ranging from popular newspaper articles to learned
defenses of the faith, these pieces cover topics as varied as the logic of
theism, good and evil, miracles, the role of women in the church, and ethics and
politics. Many represent Lewis's first ventures into themes he would later treat
in full-length books.

Silas' mother forgot to sign him up and pay for 'Booster Juice' day at
Kindergarten. When you are five years old being left out because of a mother's
oversight is cause for a major trauma and, perhaps, PTSD.

Dropping him at school this morning his mother reassured him all would be
okay and then called me asking if I could get a Strawberry Sunshine Booster
Juice and take it to Silas by 12:30.

Arriving at school there was no one in his classroom and most of the school
was deserted. I saw a young boy about Silas' age and asked if he might know
Silas and where he might be. I got a terse "on the playground" in reply and went
back out.

The schools use volunteer mother's as playground monitors and I quickly
located one and asked if she might know a 5 year old named, Silas, 5 years old,
big for his age. I didn't expect she would with the hundreds of kids there but
she laughed and said she did and that Silas hung out at the tire swing at
recess. She walked me there.

Of course the boy lit up when he saw me. I looked at him, looked at the drink
in my hand, and said, "Beets, spinach, and avocado, right?" A fleeting moment of
panic crossed his face and then he laughed. "Grandpaaaa."

"Where does it, go?"

"You can put it at my spot in the classroom."

"Buddy, I don't know where your spot is."

The playground monitor chimed in, "I can show you."

Silas piped up, "I will."

Together we walked back to the school building seemingly meeting every single
one of Silas' kindergarten classmates.

"Hi, Tia, this is my Grandpa." "Hi, Billy, this is my Grandpa."

On and on
until I must have met them all.

We deposited his drink at his seat and started back out. "Thanks,
Grandpa."

"You are welcome, Silas. I love you."

Silas looked around and seeing no one he hugged me and said, "I love you too,
Grandpa."

Arnold Dallimore's two volume biography of George Whitfield is a classic and
by all accounts the best treatment of Whitfield and of the Great Awakening ever
written. However, at 1232 pages and $63 U.S. dollars for both volumes I wasn't
certain I was interested enough to pay that much or spend that much time
reading. Instead I purchased the Kindle edition of Dallimore's abridged
biography of Whitfield, George Whitefield: God's Anointed Servant in the Great Revival of
the Eighteenth Century. Having recently read through that volume I wish I
had bitten the bullet and gotten the two volume set. Dallimore is a very good
historian and his account of Whitfield never flags, never becomes repetitive,
never becomes boring.

Whitfield crossed the Atlantic seven times to tour America and this when a
crossing could take months and was extremely unhealthy. He regularly spoke to
crowds of 30,000 people and more in a time without any amplification. Originally
doubting that Whitfield could be heard by that many people no less a personage
then Ben Franklin did experiments and undertook counts shows that it wasn't only
possible but true. On one occasion it is said that he spoke to 80,000 people at
one time in England. In Colonial America estimates are that over eighty per cent
of the people had heard Whitfield preach.

Colonist Nathan Cole published an astonishing account of going to hear
Whitfield preach which I reproduce below.

This is a great book.

5 out of 5 Stars.

If anyone wants to buy me the two volume biography, let me know.

Account of Colonist Nathan Cole:

“Now it pleased God to send Mr. Whitefield into this land; and my hearing of
his preaching at Philadelphia, like one of the Old apostles, and many thousands
flocking to hear him preach the Gospel, and great numbers were converted to
Christ; I felt the Spirit of God drawing me by conviction, longed to see and
hear him, and wished he would come this way. And I soon heard he was come to New
York and the Jerseys and great multitudes flocking after him under great concern
for their Souls and many converted which brought on my concern more and more
hoping soon to see him but next I heard he was at Long Island, then at Boston,
and next at Northampton.

Then one morning all on a Sudden, about 8 or 9 o’clock there came a messenger
and said Mr. Whitefield preached at Hartford and Weathersfield yesterday and is
to preach at Middletown this morning [October 23, 1740] at ten of the Clock. I
was in my field at Work. I dropt my tool that I had in my hand and ran home and
run through my house and bade my wife get ready quick to go and hear Mr.
Whitefield preach at Middletown, and run to my pasture for my horse with all my
might fearing that I should be too late to hear him. I brought my horse home and
soon mounted and took my wife up and went forward as fast as I thought the horse
could bear, and when my horse began to be out of breath, I would get down and
put my wife on the Saddle and bid her ride as fast as she could and not Stop or
Slack for me except I bad her, and so I would run until I was much out of
breath, and then mount my horse again, and so I did several times to favour my
horse, we improved every moment to get along as if we were fleeing for our lives,
all the while fearing we should be too late to hear the Sermon, for we had
twelve miles to ride double in little more than an hour and we went round by the
upper housen parish.

And when we came within about half a mile of the road that comes down from
Hartford, Weathersfield and Stepney to Middletown; on high land I saw before me
a Cloud or fogg rising. I first thought it came from the great river
[Connecticut River], but as I came nearer the Road, I heard a noise something
like a low rumbling thunder and

presently found it was the noise of horses
feet coming down the road and this Cloud was a Cloud of dust made by the Horses
feet. It arose some Rods into the air over the tops of the hills and trees and
when I came within about 20 rods of the Road, I could see men and horses Sliping
along in the Cloud like shadows, and as I drew nearer it seemed like a steady
stream of horses and their riders, scarcely a horse more than his length behind
another, all of a lather and foam with sweat, their breath rolling out of their
nostrils in the cloud of dust every jump; every horse seemed to go with all his
might to carry his rider to hear news from heaven for the saving of Souls. It
made me tremble to see the Sight, how the world was in a Struggle, I found a
vacance between two horses to Slip in my horse; and my wife said law our cloaths
will be all spoiled see how they look, for they were so covered with dust, that
they looked almost all of a colour coats, hats, and shirts and horses.

We went down in the Stream; I heard no man speak a word all the way three
miles but every one pressing forward in great haste and when we got to the old
meeting house there was a great multitude; it was said to be 3 or 4000 of people
assembled together, we got off from our horses and shook off the dust, and the
ministers were then coming to the meeting house. I turned and looked towards the
great river and saw the ferry boats running swift forward and forward bringing
over loads of people; the oars rowed nimble and quick, every thing men horses
and boats seemed to be struggling for life; the land and banks over the river
looked black with people and horses all along the 12 miles. I saw no man at work
in his field, but all seemed to be gone.

When I saw Mr. Whitefield come upon the Scaffold he looked almost angelical,
a young, slim slender youth before some thousands of people with a bold
undaunted countenance, and my hearing how God was with him every where as he
came along it solumnized my mind, and put me into a trembling fear before he
began to preach; for he looked as if he was Cloathed with authority from the
Great God, and a sweet solemn solemnity sat upon his brow. And my hearing him
preach gave me a heart wound; by God’s blessing my old foundation was broken up,
and I saw that my righteousness would not save me.”